


In a Name

by adi_rotynd



Category: Glee
Genre: Family, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-06
Updated: 2011-04-06
Packaged: 2017-10-17 16:33:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/178803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adi_rotynd/pseuds/adi_rotynd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finn introduces Sam to his "brother" Kurt. So Sam is now crushing on his only friend's little brother - plus it takes him two and a half months to figure out that Kurt is actually Finn's stepbrother. L'awkward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In a Name

**Spoilers:** Up to 2.05.  
 **Warnings:** Homophobia.  
 **Disclaimer:** RIB and FOX own everything ever.  
For [this](http://community.livejournal.com/glee_fluff_meme/2832.html?thread=2785296#t2785296) prompt.

**First Week:**

When Sam finally gets around to joining glee club for real, the composition he was expecting has been thrown off. He knows, intellectually, that Puck can’t be there, because they probably don’t let people out of juvie even for a little bit, even if their show choir really needs them. Still, it’s weird not to see him. And he had thought he’d met all the guys in glee at his audition, but that was wrong too.

So he walks into the choir room and there’s no Puck, but a different guy, the one he sees around sometimes in the crazy outfits, is standing on Finn’s shoes like a little kid practicing a dance with their dad only facing outward, saying in a has-to-be-heard-to-be-believed voice of unnatural beauty, “What part of ‘left’ do you not understand?”

“I thought maybe you meant your left.”

“We’re facing the same way,” the stranger says witheringly. “We have the same left. You do know that, right?”

“I think you’re getting too big for this,” Finn complains.

“ _Excuse_ me?”

“I meant your growth spurt, don’t be a douche.”

“Oh my god, Finn, just try the dance again. I’m pretty sure – and by pretty sure I mean painfully certain – that your entire problem is the third step; if you could do it right you wouldn’t be off-tempo for the rest of the count.”

There’s a lot of other stuff going on, since there are ten other people in there too, but Finn’s the one he knows best, so Sam heads over to him. “Hey, Finn,” he said cautiously. “Um… who’s your friend?”

Finn unwraps his arms from the guy’s waist and sets him on his own feet. “Sam! This is my brother, Kurt. Kurt, this is Sam, the ‘Billionaire’ dude.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sam says, sticking a hand out. It takes Kurt a second to notice, because he’s looking at Finn with this sort of startled adoration that’s a little off-putting but also endearing and wow, talk about beautiful eyes.

Then he shakes Sam’s hand (this leads to the revelation that he has probably the softest, smoothest hands Sam’s ever felt), and says, “Magical disappearing Sam. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, especially since it proves Finn’s not going insane. Mercedes, look, Sam exists!”

“Yeah, sorry about bailing on you guys,” Sam says. “But… I mean, you’ve seen me around, right?”

“No, I think I’d remember,” Kurt says, and is definitely either flirting or being combative, but Sam’s not sure which one.

“I’ve seen you, I mean,” Sam offers. “But I guess you stand out more than I do.”

There’s an odd moment then, with Kurt’s expression freezing in place and Finn frowning, and then two girls come over, the black one and the little tiny one that Sam knows is Finn’s girlfriend, and the conversation turns elsewhere.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

That night, after football practice, Finn catches up to Sam on the way to the parking lot. “So I know Kurt’s super gay,” he said without otherwise introducing the subject, “but that’s not, like, a problem for you, right?”

“No way, man.” Sam shrugs. “I went to an all-boys school, remember? Everyone’s way more chill about people being gay there. McKinley is kind of freaking me out with the constant low-grade homophobia, not gonna lie.”

“Okay,” Finn says, “because when you said he stood out…”

“He does. Dude had like a fox tail or something coming out of his side pocket. Oh…” he pauses. “You guys thought I was being an ass about his clothes or his being gay or something?”

“Well,” Finn says. “Most people here would have been.” He claps Sam on the shoulder. “Glad you weren’t, though,” he says cheerily. “We really do need you on glee.” Then he takes off and climbs into the passenger side of a hulking black Navigator; while the interior light is on, Sam sees it’s Kurt picking him up. The boy winces at something Finn’s thrown in the back seat, then Finn says something and laughs. Kurt loosens up with another one of those adorable, soppy looks. Finn’s smile goes from clueless-amused to self-congratulatory and affectionate when Kurt looks away to start backing out.

The interior light goes off.

**Second Week:**

“Hey, Quinn,” Sam says after a Spanish test he’s pretty sure he just bombed, “how’s your Spanish?”

“Pretty decent,” she says with the smooth modesty of someone pulling in straight As. “Don’t worry, Mr. Schue’s an easy grader, and not just on his glee kids. He passed Brittany before she joined, most of the time, and it takes some superhuman mental gymnastics to qualify ‘gato’ as the correct imperfect conjugation of ‘ir’.”

“It’s not just the grades, though,” he says. “I really want to do better, it’s just I can hardly do most of this in English.”

“Well, I can go over the homework with you, if you want,” she says. “I might be able to help.”

“Really?” He grins. “That’d be fantastic. Kinda what I was angling for, actually.”

“No way. You’re so smooth about it.” She smiles to take the sting out of her words. She either doesn’t have to do that, or should do it with everything she says, he’s still figuring it out; something about her voice, so sweet and languid, makes everything sound half-insulting, half-caring.

“Hey, one other favor. You know where Finn lives, right? I’m supposed to go over there for video games tonight with Artie, and I lost his address. Plus I’d kind of like to apologize to his brother for something I said, I think he took it the wrong way.”

Quinn blinks, looking startled, then says, “Sure, here.” She tears a page out of her notebook and scribbles down the address. “You know,” she says, “you’re exactly Kurt’s type. Tall, athletic, endearingly awkward, musical, not the most academically-minded….” She seems to be waiting for him to pick up on something. Or waiting to see if he does.

“Really?” He mulls this over. “But... I’m kind of new here to go rocking the boat on the one solid friendship I have with a dude just because I want to date his kid brother.”

“Yes,” she says, grinning. “Good thinking. Well, just so you… have all the facts.”

**Fourth Week:**

It is possibly a little bit weird that the thing that spirals Sam from thinking Kurt’s kind of nice to look at (and very nice to hear) to thinking that he’d actually really like to date him is watching what an awesome brother he makes. (It is also deeply ironic, he will decide a few weeks later.) But then he considers that he likes watching Finn be a good brother too, and that makes him like Finn but not want to tap that, so it’s definitely a Kurt-specific thing and not as creepy as he was afraid it might be.

For example: He’s over at their house for some serious Halo-age one Saturday. They usually meet at Artie’s house (first time notwithstanding), since he has the best and the most equipment for all things related to killing little pixelated dudes, but the Parents Hudson are out of town for the weekend.

“For the first time in…” Kurt looks at Finn. “Ever?”

“Ever,” Finn confirms.

“Well isn’t that lovely and depressing,” Kurt says. He doesn’t play with them, and doesn’t go to Artie’s for the games, so Sam hasn’t seen him outside of glee for a while now. “I’m going to go drown my vicarious sorrows in the kitchen. Who wants dinner?”

“Aw, man, let’s order pizza,” Finn whines. “We don’t have to worry about heart-healthy tonight!”

“I will _make_ you pizza if you want pizza,” Kurt says. “We’re not eating anything that came out of those foul places they call pizza delivery joints in this town.”

Finn grinned. “With lots of cheese? And like, ham and pineapple?”

Kurt gags. “And I will make two pizzas. I’m guessing you want the Finn version, Sam, Artie?”

“Hell yes,” Artie says from where he’s hooking up the controllers.

“Actually,” Sam says, “it sounds like your version’s going to be healthier? I’d rather get in on that, if it’s not a big deal.”

“Why, Sam Evans. I had no idea you were a fellow devotee of the temple of the body,” Kurt shot Finn a dirty look, “as opposed to the fast food plaza of the body.”

“These abs are not free,” Sam assures him. “I pay my dues.”

Kurt makes a funny noise that tries to be politely interested, and then says quickly, “Okay, I have to run to the store, Finn; we don’t have enough disgusting processed garbage to put on your pizza. I’ll be right back.”

“You’re the best,” Finn calls after him. He holds out his hand to Sam for a high-five, which Sam gives him.

“What are we celebrating?”

“Food, man. This is the best year ever, except for the heart-healthy soups with weird names. Between having Kurt for a brother and Rachel for a girlfriend? I have got it _made_.”

“Yeah, you two make me wish I had a sibling,” Sam says. “It seems like Kurt really looks up to you. It’s got to be nice to have someone that into you. Rachel, too, actually. You just inspire devotion, I guess.”

Finn does that half-smile thing he does and flushes. “Naw, it’s not me,” he says. “They’re just both crazy like that. I mean, Rachel’s an overachiever at everything, including being my girlfriend. She made calendars with these terrifying cat creatures on them. And Kurt’s, like… scary about family. He dressed in overalls and sang Mellencamp once, because – um. I maybe shouldn’t tell that story. Anyway, yeah, they kind of lack senses of proportion.” He bounces off the couch. “Gotta pee.”

“That’s really awesome,” Sam says to Artie. “I mean, that they don’t take each other for granted.” That Kurt goes that all-out, he thinks. That he’d be as awesome a boyfriend as Rachel is a girlfriend. Sam could definitely be down with being looked at like the sun and moon are on his shoulders.

“Uh-huh,” says Artie, who has ear-buds in and is plainly getting into the zone.

**Sixth Week:**

“No, okay, I’ve got it.” Finn sounds triumphant. “I’ll hide the body in your closet. They’re too scared to go in there in case they mess up your clothes and you pitch a hissy.”

“Finn Hudson, you are not, I repeat _not_ , storing a corpse in my closet! Anyway, if you do that they’ll know it was me.” Kurt pauses. “Did you honestly just use the phrase ‘pitch a hissy’?”

“Dude, we’re in this together,” Finn says hastily. “I wouldn’t let you take the fall.”

“That’s really sweet, Finn, but since I was the one with the ice pick, it doesn’t matter. You’re a conspirator, not a murderer.”

“Well, they wouldn’t think you’d put a corpse in your closet anyway. It’ll probably convince them it was me, actually.”

Sam stands very still in the bathroom stall and seriously considers climbing onto the toilet so that they don’t see his shoes.

“Ugh, you could be right. And as long as they’re wrong, we’re still in the game. Fine, you win, body goes in my closet. We still have to decide on the first clue, because a computer printout of an arrow pointing at the body doesn’t actually count. We can plan it later, though; just being in this room may well give me an allergic reaction. I can’t believe my entire gender is this filthy.”

“Okay, later, bro.”

The door opens and closes, and Sam hears Finn head over to take a leak. He swallows and opens the stall. “Finn,” he says, “you don’t have to do this. I know he’s your brother, but hiding a corpse is a serious crime, like you’d definitely get expelled, and Rachel would probably kill you for screwing glee over –”

“Uh,” Finn says. “Dude. What are you talking about?”

“You were just deciding on where to hide a body with Kurt,” Sam hisses.

“Oh.” Finn grins and punches his shoulder lightly. “Chill. It’s for Murder Mystery Dinner night. We did a drawing out of a hat to make one of us the murderer this time, and Kurt got it, and then he asked me to help, because he says ‘so where should I hide the body’ doesn’t count as telling that you got the black mark. So now it’s like kids against parents but Mom and Burt don’t know we’ve joined forces. Totally awesome.”

“Oh, wow,” Sam says, reintroducing oxygen to his lungs. “Good. Okay. I’m just gonna…” he leaves before Finn can process the fact that Sam bought, albeit in a state of panic, the idea that he and Kurt had murdered someone and were casually plotting what to do with the corpse.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

“The closet thing should definitely have tipped you off,” Mercedes says, texting Tina as she speaks. Sam’s cool with that; he’s learned better than to expect Mercedes’s full attention at any given moment. “My man Kurt would never put a body near his clothes. All that smell and blood?”

“Tell me you don’t believe Finn’d do it, though,” Sam says. “I mean, it’s not beyond the realm of possibility.”

“I believe that boy would do anything someone asked him to, if they used enough big words on him.”

“But especially for Kurt. Or Rachel.” He tosses his football into the air and catches it. “So has Kurt ever had a boyfriend?”

“In this town?” Mercedes scoffs.

“But come on, seriously, someone must have hit on him. I just want to know how Finn took it, like if he got pissed. I mean, I know Kurt’s a guy, but he has all that honorary girl stuff going on, and he is Finn’s little brother, and I get kind of a protective vibe there, you know?”

Mercedes raises an eyebrow at him, then shrugs something off. “Kurt’s actually older than Finn,” she says. “I wouldn’t worry.” She grins. “You should go for it.”

Sam shakes his head. “I don’t know. I really don’t want to mess up what I’ve got with Finn. He already almost hated me over the quarterback issue. Just… don’t tell anyone about this, okay?”

**Eighth Week:**

Sam knows, now, that Kurt was definitely at some point in love with Puck, and that’s just all kinds of awkward. He already doesn’t get along with Puck because he and Quinn are close and Puck thinks it’s Sam’s fault that Quinn won’t date him; Sam doesn’t even want to think about what a complete douche Puck will be if Sam steals his ex-crusher, too. And he gets that Puck didn’t like Kurt back, but he still doubts Puck will be cool with more theoretical attention-stealing.

Though it’s kind of weird, speaking of attention, that Kurt is so completely over the crush that he seems utterly indifferent to Puck – like he doesn’t even notice him unless it’s in conjunction with glee or Finn – but hey, it’s high school, people move on fast.

But – not Kurt, he thinks to himself, because that’s kind of what he likes about Kurt – he does everything so all out. Sam’s a laid-back guy himself (unless it concerns his abs), but he can appreciate that about Kurt. He’s pretty sure a rejected Kurt should be a vindictive, bitchy, traumatized Kurt. Yet he doesn’t even give Puck the cold shoulder. They snipe at each other, but it’s sort of friendly-apathetic-for-Finn’s-sake; they don’t ignore each other outright, just sort of travel in different circles.

But he’s still pretty certain about his theory, because of Finn’s warning.

He walked into the choir room an hour early a few days ago and found Rachel and Kurt with a bunch of papers spread out on the piano. “You’re going to have to take Spanish,” Rachel was saying. “I can do algebra, but I don’t think anyone appreciates how difficult it is for me to listen to people mispronounce things. I have pitch-perfect hearing.”

“Oh my god,” Kurt mouthed at the piano, then said, “Your ability to be simultaneously helpful and irritating increases daily. I’ll take Spanish if you’ll make it up to me by taking history; you’re not the only one with sensitive ears.”

“Hey,” Sam said, dropping his backpack in the corner. “Whatcha doing?”

“Sam!” Kurt said at the same time as Rachel said “Nothing!” They scrambled to put the papers away; one of them fluttered off the piano.

“We were just making a few plans, going over some ideas for future songs. We can’t let Mr. Schue plan everything, unless you want to listen to Rachel sing ‘Don’t Cry for Me Argentina’ at Sectionals,” Kurt said.

Sam picked up the paper and held it out. He didn’t mean to look at it, but his eyes just kind of slid down. It was a schedule. With lots of gold stars stuck on it, and a bunch of subjects penciled in red and pink. “Here,” he said.

Kurt and Rachel were bitching about who would make a better Evita (whoever that was; it sounded like a good sci-fi/horror name, but he somehow doubted their discussion had anything to do with spacecraft or vampires), but they stopped for this. Rachel grabbed the schedule with an affronted expression and stuffed it into the pile of papers.

“So neither of you is taking U. S. History,” he said, leaning on the piano. “But Finn is.”

Kurt straightened up. “If you mention this to him,” he said, “I will use my foot to permanently end your sex drive. I was a kicker. I can make good.”

“Kurt,” Sam said, startled. “What gives? So you two are helping him study, big deal. But I won’t… um, tell him you’re helping him?”

Rachel softened. “Obviously Finn is aware that we’re helping him,” she said. “But he has enough issues rooted in his academic performance as it is; he doesn’t need to know that we schedule it to make sure that he has support in every subject. It’s very important to me that my boyfriend graduate on time, and good grades will improve his self-esteem, which is beneficial for a relationship and I’m working on accepting that.”

“I get that,” Sam said easily. “Sure, I’ll just shut up about it. I’d make a joke about blackmailing you, but you’re both pretty intense and I don’t want to end up in a river somewhere with a rock tied to my feet, so…. Strictly as a favor… do you think I could get in on that Spanish action? Quinn’s been helping me, but she’s super busy, and if you’re tutoring Finn anyway, I could just, like, ride on that.”

“I’m insulted that you think either Rachel or I would resort to so prosaic and easily-traced a murder method,” Kurt said. “However, you’re welcome to come over Mondays and Wednesdays at four o’clock. Bring the homework and your notes.”

“Cool! Thanks, man. I’ll be there.”

To make it up to Kurt, he made a concerted effort over the next few days to step in on any bullying that he saw; he didn’t think of it as a big deal. Just a few slushy dodges and yelling at someone for using a slur.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Wednesday he was there at three-fifty, just to be on the safe side, with his book, notes, and at least most of the homework (hey, it’d been assigned yesterday; there was only so long he could keep track of this stuff).

Kurt answered the door, wearing a red shirt and smelling nice. He beamed up at Sam. “Do come in, Sam Evans,” he said. “Let me take your coat.”

“Sure. Do we get to study in your room?”

“Get to?” Kurt looked thrown.

“Well, yeah. It’s like a spaceship down there. Or a lab. My room just has posters of them.”

“Oh,” said Kurt, almost exactly the way Quinn had when he’d told her about seeing _Avatar_ six times, but recovered with, “Well, come down to the lab, then, and see what’s on the slab.”

Sam kind of got his hopes up, but there was no slab. There were snacks, though, some of which looked like they might not be the end of the world to eat, and soda but also water. Finn was already set up on the couch, frowning at a conjugation chart.

Sam thought it went well. It took two hours, but they ended up doing all of the homework (even if Finn and Kurt had to lend him some of theirs to copy the directions from) and being pretty solid on the vocabulary. Kurt did snipe at them and on occasion make condescending comments that he seemed to think they wouldn’t notice, but he wasn’t genuinely impatient.

Kurt started out between them, which made the difference in how he felt about being close to them painfully obvious. When he had to lean over close to Finn, he did it thoughtlessly, putting a hand on his brother’s leg to brace himself. When he had to lean close to Sam, he was… cautious. He did touch him, but he sort of watched himself do it. Sam wished he could have made him feel better about it, but honestly, brains kind of turned him on when he could relax about feeling inferior, so Kurt touching him in conjunction with explaining the difference between a subject and an object made him a little nervous because a boner would definitely have been awkward.

At one point, Finn left to go to the bathroom. When he walked back in, Kurt’s hand was just barely touching Sam’s shoulder, and he was laughing at something Sam had said, and Sam thought he was maybe a little doe-eyed.

Then he thought he must have been wrong, because Kurt sort of jerked away from him, and when Finn got to the couch he grabbed Kurt around the waist and kind of tossed him. He laughed like it was a joke, but Kurt ended up sitting on Finn’s other side, legs in Finn’s lap, and Kurt gave him this weird sort of wry-grateful-pissed smile. So Sam thought maybe he made Kurt legit nervous and Finn was trying to chill him out.

And then Finn insisted on walking him to his car.

“Dude,” he said in a low voice as soon as the front door was closed behind them, “are you like… even a little gay?”

“Uh,” Sam said.

“Because you have to make your mind up fast, man. Look, I’ve seen Kurt be the way he is with you before, and…. You know how I said he’s intense about family? Well, he can be pretty hardcore about crushes, too.”

“Kurt has a crush on me?”

“I’m just giving you a heads-up. He had a crush on… on another dude before, and he can be pretty persistent and he’s not good at picking up on do-not-go signals, and I don’t want him to get hurt again, because the, you know, the last dude he was crushing on could have handled it better. So you have to… handle it better.”

“You’re seriously confusing me right now.”

“Look. Kurt definitely likes you. You’re totally his type, musical athlete and all, and the way he’s started talking about you and looking at you…. I’ve seen him when he likes someone, and he kind of loses his perspective. I don’t want you to feel creeped out or whatever. But also, last time… uh, the dude he was into was an asshole about it. It’s sort of private. So the thing is, I don’t want to have to like punch you out for being an asshole to my brother.” Finn fist-bumped his shoulder in post-threat solidarity. “Just, if you like him, that’s totally cool – as long as you’re ready for the fallout at school – but if you don’t, you should probably find a really nice way to say it like _now_.”

Then Finn went back inside. Sam has thought about it, and come to two conclusions: 1) Kurt had had a crush on Puck (musical athlete, close to Finn at one point, would definitely have been an asshole about the crush), and 2) Yeah, he is definitely gay enough to be interested.

 

**Tenth Week:**

When Sam finds out that Finn and Kurt are not, in fact, blood brothers, he has been officially dating Kurt for five days, and he’s been in glee club for two and a half months. He thinks this makes it a little overdue.

“Bet you ten bucks,” Finn says.

“No way.” Sam looks at the shirt Finn is holding, and after only a business week as Kurt’s boyfriend he sees overwhelming amounts of polyester. It is yellow and it has a dinosaur on it. “I think he gets hives or something.”

“I’m telling you, dude, ten bucks says it’s the truth.”

“…You’re on.”

Finn grins and starts shoveling slices of pizza onto plates just as Kurt comes in with the tuna salad. “Alright, boys, battle positions,” he says. “Puck and Artie should be here any minute.”

“Mike just texted,” Finn says. “He’s only going to be fifteen minutes late after all; his parents are leaving early.” He hands the shirt to Kurt. “Would you put that on? I bet Sam you’d fit my clothes.”

“But people will be here! I’m not going to be seen in that monstrosity; it probably came from Target.”

“Wal-Mart.”

Kurt starts holding it with the tips of his fingers. “It’s not going to fit, anyway.”

“I mean guy-fit, not like freaky fashion-fit. Please?”

“…I hate you,” Kurt says, and yanks it over his head. “I told you,” he adds seconds later, hair tousled and cheeks red. “It looks like a dress on me. An awful, poorly-tailored, offensively cheap dress.”

“And kind of slutty,” Sam says. “It’d barely cover your junk.”

“Thank you, Sam, that will be enough from the peanut gallery. I was exaggerating to make a point, that point, Finn, being that I do not raid your closet for a reason, and that reason should be patently obvious to you.”

“I guess it is kinda weird when you look normal,” Finn says. Sam coughs and nods and tries to stop thinking about Kurt in _only_ that shirt, which would indeed barely cover his junk if he were to move too quickly, plus there’s something about a tousle-headed, shirt-only wearing Kurt that says “just out of bed” and then there’s a whole host of other fantasies…

Kurt pulls the shirt off and throws it at Finn’s head. “I have to go fix my hair now,” he says with a world-weary sigh.

“Pay up.” Finn grins.

Sam hands over two fives, shaking his head. “Blood is thicker than fashion,” he says. “I’ll never again question your absolute power.”

“Bros before clothes,” Finn says triumphantly.

The rest of the evening goes really smoothly, up to a point. The project this week is some musical with a French name but enough songs about fighting to not be totally boring, and they’d decided to get together and work on the boyish parts of it, although Kurt also spent last night at Mercedes’s house with the girls working on it, so Sam isn’t sure what’s up with that.

This devolves into a video game fest once most of them are fed up with the people singing the songs of angry men or whatever, and then it gets late fast. Mike leaves, and then Artie’s dad comes to pick him up, and then it’s one o’clock and Burt Hummel comes into the living room.

“Gettin’ late,” he says pointedly, as Kurt tries to look like he’s sitting more on the couch and less on Sam’s lap.

“Yeah,” says Finn quickly, “We’ll hit the sack. Actually, do you mind if maybe Puck and Sam spend the night?”

Mr. Hummel looks at Kurt for a minute, then says, “Sure, if you boys want.” He points at Sam. “You’re not staying in his room.”

“Dad.” Kurt goes red.

“I mean it,” Mr. Hummel says immovably. “I’ll be checking. Goodnight, Kurt, Finn.” He goes back upstairs.

“It’s cool, man,” Finn says, smiling. “You can sleep up in my room; there’s a pull-out under my bed.”

“Guess that’s you and me, then,” Puck says to Kurt.

“Fine, you can have the couch down there if you borrow clean pajamas from Finn and stay at least five feet away from my closet at all times.”

“Whatever. Unless you want Sam and I to take a room; you’d probably love another shot at shacking up all night with Finn.”

Sam doesn’t get it. He knows Puck has issues, like he’s real sad and angry a lot, and sometimes he’s just thoughtless. He’ll say stuff that’s really awful without meaning to hurt anyone. And sometimes he says stuff that’s just funny. But this one doesn’t make any sense either way. Then he takes in the choked silence and realizes it was the former, and looks at Kurt. His boyfriend is staring at Finn. It’s not a “dude, your friend is gross” stare; it’s a “that’s not true but I’m really afraid you’ll think it is” stare.

“Dude,” Finn says wearily. “You know you have to leave now, right? I really… I want us to be friends again, but…. I’ll drive you home.”

Puck makes the face he makes when he realizes what he’s said. “Whatever,” he repeats, and then, probably sort of to Kurt, “Sorry.”

“I’m sure,” Kurt says tightly.

As soon as they were gone, Sam says, “Uh, what… what the hell was that?”

“I’m over it.” Kurt moves away from Sam on the couch. “I’m completely over it.”

“Over… what?”

Kurt frowns. “Finn really never told you? I thought the day he ‘walked you to your car’…”

“About your crush on Puck? I don’t get what that has to do with this.”

“My crush on _Puck_?”

Sam considers. “Mike, then? Or that dude who left?”

“Sam,” Kurt says carefully, “Last year… I had a crush on Finn.” Sam feels like someone’s punched all the air out of him. Kurt continues quickly, putting a hand into Sam’s and holding tightly. “I really am over it, I love him completely platonically now, it was always stupid, I just… I should have told you, though, I do _live_ with him, you should have had a chance to deal with that before this….”

“Dude,” Sam says. “…Are you, like, getting help?”

Kurt raises an eyebrow. “I’m tempted to be offended on Finn’s behalf. I know he’s straight, but he’s not that hard a guy to fall in love with.”

Sam stands up, freeing his hand from Kurt’s and running it through his hair. “Do your parents know about this?”

Kurt slumps down on the couch, going red again. “Yes, actually. That was an excruciatingly embarrassing discussion.”

“And they’re, what, cool with it now that it’s over?” Sam tries not to sound hysterical.

Kurt sits up straighter, eyebrow hiking. “I was never going to _jump_ him.”

“Yeah, but… he’s your brother. Doesn’t anybody think you might need a little professional help with this?”

Kurt’s jaw drops a little. “You do know our parents moved in together this summer, right?”

“ _What_?”

“We’re not related, Sam, not even legally yet, and we didn’t grow up together. I met him freshman year. You honestly didn’t know that?”

“No. No, I really thought… Oh.” Sam winces. “I pretty much just accused you of being really fucking messed up, huh.”

“Yes. Yes, you did.” Kurt’s eyebrow reaches a dangerous altitude. “Luckily for you, I am an extremely logical person and don’t put much stock in ‘X would never do Y’ reasoning, since pretty much anyone is capable of pretty much anything really, and pretending that you just know me too well to believe I’d ever be capable of something so horrific would actually make me very condescending toward your sappy, sentimental excuse for logic.” He takes a shaky breath. “However, emotionally, I’m pretty freaked out right now, so don’t talk for a minute.”

Sam waits a minute and then raises his hand.

“Yes, Sam?”

“If it makes you feel any better, this isn’t the worst thing I thought you might have done. I heard you and Finn talking about Murder Mystery Night once and I totally thought you’d killed someone with an ice pick and he was helping you hide the body.”

Kurt starts laughing, and then Sam does too, and eventually it hurts they’re both laughing so hard. And Sam gets back on the couch for cuddles and Kurt doesn’t object, so that’s going well. Until Sam realizes Kurt’s crying a little with the laughter.

“Do you know why he said I was his brother when we met?” Kurt wipes his eyes.

Sam shrugs. “Because you are? I mean, I get it, bad water under the bridge, but you’re effectively brothers, right?”

“Yes – yes, that was part of it, and it means so much to me that he’d say that – but that’s not the whole reason. You walked in on us dancing, and he was afraid you’d think – even if he said that we were stepbrothers or our parents were living together or whatever. He said it so you’d know he’s straight. And I knew that, but part of me was just so glad… I’m always afraid, every time I touch him, that he’s going to think I’m perving on him.” He keeps wiping his cheeks dry, over and over. “He was so mad before, Sam…”

“For what it’s worth,” Sam says, “I really think he’s over it. Also for what it’s worth, I still wanted to do you even when I thought you were a murderer, and I didn’t even think about breaking up with you when I thought you had soap opera brain decay.”

Kurt snickers and goes a few solid minutes without wiping his cheeks. “You really are an exceptionally wonderful boyfriend,” he says eventually. “And I’m sorry about the whole mix-up.”

“I’m actually pretty sure Quinn knew I thought you guys were blood.”

“Well, she’s kind of a bitch,” Kurt says without rancor.

The door opens and closes. Kurt kisses Sam and then stands up. “Finn,” he says, voice high even for him.

“Yeah.” Finn slumps in and throws his keys on the coffee table. “I’m real sorry, dude. Puck is too, I mean, as much as Puck ever is.”

“I’m not mad at him,” Kurt says. “It’d be like beating up a puppy for peeing on the rug; he doesn’t know any better. Well, like beating up a huge, vicious Doberman for peeing on the rug. It still doesn’t know any better.”

“Yeah, but sometimes I think you seriously might beat me up for spilling stuff on the rug.” Finn reaches over and messes Kurt’s hair up, and Kurt grins like he’s melting.

Sam stands up, pulling Kurt under his arm. “So your parents moved in together this summer,” he says conversationally.

“Yeah,” Finn says, and then, “Oh, wow, dude. Did you seriously just figure that out?”

“No. Kurt just told me.”

Finn stands too straight and looks deliberately ignorant. “Huh. Weird.”

Sam grins, and Kurt loops his arms around Sam’s waist. “I’m holding this over your head for, like, ever.”

Burt, who can for a guy who’s going on six feet move pretty quietly, appears in the doorway. “You boys okay down here?”

“Yeah,” Kurt says. “Yeah, I think we’re all fine.”


End file.
